Them That Do Nothing
by GeekBastard23
Summary: When a question during a case leaves Tony all restless inside, he finds himself walking into Gibbs' basement, seeking for reassurance. Pre-Slash Gibbs/Tony


**_Them That Do Nothing_**

Taking a deep breath, Tony followed Gibbs and Ziva into the Henderson's living-room. He hated visits like that with every fiber of his being and he didn't even know why that was. They didn't have to tell the parents that their daughter was dead, didn't have to tell them that she was missing. No, in fact, they had just saved her from her misery, had just saved her from a guy who had held her hostage and was now at large. The young Petty Officer was well, considering the circumstances, but hadn't really been able to tell them who her kidnapper had been. And that was why Team Gibbs was there now, trying to find out whether the family had any suspicions.

Tony glanced around the clean living-room and was just able to see the younger sibling, Greg, if Tony wasn't mistaken, slip out of the room through another door. Quickly glancing at Gibbs, who only raised an eyebrow, clearly telling him something along the lines of 'Suck it up', Tony got his move on and quickly followed the teenager and was just able to catch the door to his bedroom before it clicked shut.

"Hey man," Tony said, casually leaning against the doorframe and playing with his sunglasses that he held in his right hand.

He looked around the room and couldn't help but grin at the sight of it. There were movie posters pinned to every available surface on the walls – _The Godfather_ was there alongside _Taxi Driver_ and a couple of 007 ones. The boy, who Tony knew was seventeen, had sat down on his bed, his back towards Tony, his shoulders tense.

"You like James Bond?" Tony kept on talking, trying to keep his tone as light as possible. "Which one is your favorite? Because I simply can't decide between _Moonraker_ - because it was the first one I've ever seen - and _Goldfinger_."

The boy remained silent, so Tony made a few steps forwards, stopping in front of the shelf that held Greg's DVD. He tilted his head a bit to the left and read a couple of the titles.

"Oh, I see," he then continued. "You're more into the new ones, huh? Can't say I blame you, the action sequences are ridiculous. Though I'd rather have Roger Moore or Sean Connery than Daniel Craig."

"He's better than Timothy Dalton," the boy finally answered, his voice somehow a bit strangled, and shrugged but still refused to even look into the direction where Tony was standing.

"Yeah, you're right. Nobody's as bad as Dalton," Tony replied cheekily, relieved that the teenager had finally opted to speak to him.

He took another step towards the bed as Greg let out a soft chuckle, but then stopped abruptly when the boy finally spared him a glance. Suddenly understanding why he had fled from the living room before, Tony took in his appearance. The left side of his face was swollen and red, his eye already half-closed as he would soon be sporting an impressive black eye. There were already bruises forming on his neck and as far Tony could see his shoulder, too. And, there was still a bit of dried blood on his t-shirt that was torn at a few spots.

"You alright?" Tony asked stupidly as he was at a loss for words for a moment.

The boy remained silent once again, never moving, not even when Tony sat down next to him.

"Did your parents do that?" Tony asked, trying to suppress the sickening feeling in his stomach, trying to suppress the memories of his own father losing control whenever he had been drunk or Tony had done something stupid…

But finally the guy moved again, abruptly turning towards Tony, his eyes red and seemingly angrily staring at him.

"What? No, of course not. My parents are the best people there are, they would never hit me."

"So, who did then?" Tony asked only above a whisper, hoping the kid would open up to him.

"Aren't you here because of my sister?" he returned, his voice calm and even, his glance fixed on his hands now and Tony got the clue and let the kid's appearance slide for a moment.

"Smooth," he said, earning himself a shrug and a scowl. "Anyway, you have any clue, who could have done this to your sister?"

The kid just shook his head, his posture still stiff and he was breathing rather shallowly now. But as he turned to look at Tony, really looked at him with eye contact and all, the older man realized that he really had no clue about what was going with his sister.

"Didn't she mention anything or anyone these last couple of days? Was she angry with anyone? Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend maybe? Anyone?"

"No," Greg shook his head vigorously. "Really, I'd tell you but I don't know anything."

"Oookay," Tony just replied and then fell silent again, once again looking around the room, his eyes finally coming to a rest on a photo that was pinned to a corkboard that was half-hidden under a movie poster.

Greg was sitting there, his arm casually slung around another boy who looked roughly his age with both of them grinning into the camera as if they had never seen a bad day in their lives. There was something about that picture, though, that made Tony's insides clench a bit and once again, he had no idea why.

"You want to talk about who did this to you, then?"

"Not particularly," Greg answered sullenly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey, I'm a cop. You have to tell me," Tony replied jokingly and was relieved when the kid next to him chuckled ever so slightly.

"It's nothing anyway. Just got into a fight at school. What else is new?"

"Get into fights a lot, huh? You don't strike me as one of those boys, though," Tony said, glancing at him and his rather skinny body.

Greg remained silent, finding interest in his hands once again and Tony felt something boil up inside of him, something that he had been suppressing successfully until very recently.

"Let me rephrase that," Tony then softly continued, trying to get the kid to look at him again and succeeded in the end. "You get beaten up a lot?"

"Who said I didn't start it?" was the snotty reply as the kid crossed his arms over his chest again, wincing ever so slightly as he apparently came in contact with a sensitive spot there.

"Did you?" Tony replied, unwilling to let it go.

Silence.

Then –

"No."

"Why?" Tony softly asked again, carefully bumping his shoulder against the boy's.

"I don't know," Greg shrugged. "I suppose I'm simply not the typical All-American football player."

"That all?" Tony asked in typical Gibbs-style, though his voice was gentle, not gruff.

"I guess it's because they think I'm gay."

Tony let out a sigh and ran a tired hand through his hair before he turned a bit towards his right to look at the boy more closely.

"Does that bother you?"

"Being beaten up? Of course," the boy answered, frowning.

"That's a given," Tony calmly replied, willing the boy to look at him once again. "I mean the being called gay stuff."

He felt him tense up next to him and was able to see him blush furiously under his gaze all of a sudden. Finding interest in his hands that were apparently sweaty by now, Greg just shrugged before he answered.

"Guess not. It's not like it isn't true."

Tony fully turned towards him now, feeling his stomach tighten again and almost desperately tried to keep his breathing under control. What was wrong with him today? It wasn't even like stuff like that had never happened before. But then again, when had a kid ever taken a liking in him before like that? So maybe it actually hadn't happened before after all.

"Do those guys know that you are?"

"No, I'm not dumb enough to sign my own death warrant, dude. They're just doing it to insult me or whatever," again he shrugged and all of a sudden a weird sort of hopelessness seemed to cloak him.

"I'm sorry, man. I know what it feels like. But it'll get better. I promise."

Greg snorted and eventually looked at him again. "You sound like all those celebrities in those _It gets better_ videos."

"Well," this time it was Tony's turn to shrug. "It's true. You just have to get through high school."

"Yeah, right," Greg said sarcastically, balling his hands into fists. "Like those idiots will just disappear once I graduate."

"No, they won't. But you can choose your environment, can choose what you want to do with your life and just tell everyone who's calling you a fag to shut the fuck up."

Greg let out a laugh at that and Tony felt himself relax a bit, though his insides were still strangely clenched and it was like he still wasn't able to breathe quite right. What was up with him today?

"Is that the guy you're seeing?" Tony continued at last, nodding towards the corkboard and the photo he had spotted earlier.

"Hmm," Greg replied, blushing, if possible, even more. "His name is Owen. He's great."

"That's good," Tony replied, giving him a soft smile, which the kid returned almost shyly. "Do your parents know?"

Something shifted in Greg's eyes all of a sudden as he abruptly turned away from him, his eyes fixed on the _Taxi Driver_ poster.

"No, they don't know that I'm interested in boys. Only Cristina… I mean, my sister knows. It's not like I don't trust them or that I think that they would be mad or anything. It's just… every time I try to tell them, I always seem to be losing my nerves or something happens and I keep telling myself to do it but I just can't. I don't even know why. Why is that so hard?"

Tony stared at him for a moment when he realized that the kid seemed genuinely interested in his answer to his apparently not rhetorical question. He shrugged, rubbing a hand over his face before he looked at Greg again.

"I don't know, man. But if your parents are only half as cool as you told me they were, I'm sure they'll have no problem at all. You're still their son, you're still you and nothing has changed. I'm sure they'll understand. I'd tell them soon, though. Stuff like that can eat you up alive."

"You make it sound so easy," Greg answered, groaning. "I should just go over there right now and say: 'Hey, I know my sister just got kidnapped and stuff but I just wanna let you know that your only son is gay. Oh and yeah, the guy I'm always studying with, he's my boyfriend.' I bet that will go over well."

Tony let out a small laugh and shook his head. "No, not like that but don't wait too long, okay? It won't get easier with time. Trust me, you'll feel much better once they know."

"I know," Greg answered, tensing up again as his hands started to fidget with the sheets before he cleared his throat and continued. "How did you do it?"

"How did I do what?" Tony asked, honestly taken aback by the question but still felt himself get itchy inside somehow.

"Come out, dude," Greg let out a laugh like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?" Tony spluttered. "Oh! You mean… no, I'm… not gay."

Tony watched the kid raise an eyebrow and stare at him intently for a moment before he almost imperceptibly shook his head.

"Sorry. I just thought… I'm usually right about stuff like that."

"It's perfectly okay, don't worry about it," Tony replied, giving him a soft smile before he gently squeezed the boy's shoulder as he stood up.

All of a sudden, he couldn't get out of that boy's bedroom fast enough and he didn't even know why. But his pulse was rushing loudly through his ears now and he felt the palms of his hands start to sweat. He pulled out his wallet from the pocket of his pants, reached for his business card and handed it to Greg who took it with a confused look on his face.

"Take that and call me if you need anything. And I mean that, okay?" Tony said, staring intently at the boy until he nodded, a slight smile on his lips. "And take that one, too," he continued as he once again rummaged through his wallet till he found the card from a fitness center he used to go to. "They're offering loads of self-defense, karate and courses like that if you're interested. Maybe it'll help you with those jackasses at school."

"Thanks, man," Greg replied, this time giving him a genuine smile as he reached out his hand and shook Tony's. "And sorry I couldn't help you with your case and all."

"No problem," Tony said, winking at him. "We'll find your sister's kidnapper. I promise."

With that, Tony, still not feeling quite alright, turned around and was already halfway out the door, when Greg spoke again.

"And I'd go with _Moonraker_. Everybody likes _Goldfinger_. Dare to be different."

Tony chuckled and nodded before closed the door behind him.

-x-

At the end of the day, the kidnapper – one of the Petty Officer's ex-boyfriends (Tony's usual spouse theory was once again right) - safely behind bars, Tony's mind still wouldn't shut up about the talk with Greg. He didn't even know why. It wasn't even the fact that the poor boy had been beaten up or the way he had accepted it without even a second thought as if it was the most natural thing in the world. But, and Tony's insides clenched again at the thought, hadn't he been exactly the same way? Hell, he had even been able to suppress the thoughts of his own time in high school, had the memories suppressed as far as even reversing his part in those stories to the point of thinking that he had actually been the one who had done all the bullying. But he felt certain that that wasn't the reason why he was feeling so restless, was feeling nothing but utterly lost at the moment.

But what was it, then? What was it that had made him drive around aimlessly for the last hour? And how had he ended up coming to a stop in front of Gibbs' house? Why was that anyway? Why did his car seem to always drive by his boss' home whenever he was feeling insecure about something?

Subtly shaking his head, Tony got out of his Mustang and slowly made his way into the house, not the least surprised when there were no lights on in the living room and the kitchen. He slowly made his way down into the basement and then sat down on the last step. Gibbs, like usually, hadn't acknowledged that someone had entered his house, instead he just kept on sanding the wood of what seemed to be some kind of cupboard this time. Tony looked around and realized that there were to glasses filled with bourbon standing on one of the workbenches and he sighed inwardly. Great, now he was even disturbing the boss-man. Could the day be more perfect?

"Were you expecting someone?" he finally spoke and was mildly surprised that his voice was on the verge of cracking.

"Yeah," Gibbs just replied as he turned around, picked up the two glasses and handed one to Tony as he sat down next to him. "You."

"Me?" Tony replied slightly flabbergasted. "Why?"

"Gut feeling," Gibbs just said and took a sip.

"Of course," the younger man continued sarcastically. "And does your gut tell you why, too? Because, frankly, I don't know that myself."

He sipped from the bourbon, felt it burn down his throat and found it oddly soothing.

"The good stuff tonight? Go figure."

They fell silent after that, with Tony alternately staring into the glass in his hands and sideways glancing at Gibbs. He hadn't lied before. He really didn't know why he had come here. All he knew was that something was _really _bothering him seemingly out of nowhere.

"You've been quiet today," Gibbs finally (and very strangely, too) offered him a starting point for a conversation.

"Yeah, I know. Something about that case just completely… irked me the wrong the way, I guess."

"What about it? We got the guy, Petty Officer Henderson is fine. What is it?"

Tony just shrugged and continued to stare at the amber liquid in the glass, watching the swirling movement hoping that his thoughts would finally stop doing exactly that – swirling around in his mind, never settling on a thought long enough for him to understand it.

"The Henderson kid threw you off course?" Gibbs finally inquired when Tony still hadn't answered.

Tony turned to look at him and nodded curtly, emptying the glass in one swig. Reaching for it and slowly wandering towards the workbench to refill it, Gibbs continued.

"What did he do?"

"It's not what he did as much as what he didn't do."

Gibbs nodded and gave him back his glass. Tony stared at it for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he really wanted to get drunk right now but in the end decided that it didn't matter anyway.

"Trying to get me drunk, Boss?" he asked as they clinked their glasses.

"Knowing you, you're perfectly able to do so yourself."

He let out a laugh at that but it sounded strangely off, strangely not like his laugh at all and he once again rubbed a tired hand over his face.

"Greg… I mean, the Henderson's kid," he finally started to tell his tale as Gibbs sat down next to him, bumping shoulders. "He got beaten up at school just because he's… gay and that's not even the worst thing about it but he was just so accepting of it all. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, you know."

"Hmm," Gibbs just replied.

Tony felt his eyes on him and he was sure that if he turned now that he'd have to face those steely blue eyes that always got any hidden truth out of him, so Tony didn't give in and instead sipped from the bourbon again, wondering how patient Gibbs would be tonight.

"What got you off course, then?" the older man asked after a few minutes in total silence and Tony finally sat straighter and turned to look at him.

"I don't know, Boss. I mean I gave the kid my card and encouraged him to take some self-defense classes and stuff. I know there's nothing more I can do about it. So, I really don't know. It's just… he said this thing and I just can't seem to get it out of my head, you know."

"What thing?" and this time Gibbs' voice was so calm, so even, so honest that Tony's stomach made a flip and he briefly wondered whether he had already had too much of the alcohol.

"He asked how I came out."

He felt Gibbs next to him tense up for a fraction of a second and a strange mix of emotions played on his face before he was composed again and Tony wondered whether he hadn't just imagined seeing it after all.

"Honest mistake," his boss continued as he realized that Tony was apparently not willing to elaborate. "Don't tell me, no one has ever said something like that to you, no man has ever approached you."

"It's not that," Tony replied indignantly, getting up again and poured himself another drink that he emptied in one swig. "It was the way he said it, you know. Like it was so obvious, like he hadn't even thought about that I maybe wasn't gay."

Gibbs stared at him intently now, his head tilted to his left side ever so slightly and he had that weird look on his face again, the exact same one that Tony had spotted before but had been sure it was only a figment of his imagination.

"Missing the point here, Tony," he then prodded.

"It's," Tony sighed and ran a hand through his by now probably already disheveled hair again. "I don't know. Do I look gay to you, Gibbs?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs almost growled now. "How is that relevant?"

"It's not. Sorry, I… don't know what I'm talking about. I should probably just go to bed and forget about it."

With that, Tony tried to climb the stairs back upstairs but Gibbs caught him by the wrist and all but made him sit down next to him again.

"Spit it out."

"Can I ask you a question, Gibbs? A personal question?"

The older man only shrugged, his eyes boring into Tony's and the younger man suddenly wasn't capable of averting his own from the icy blue one's.

"Uhm," Tony started, hearing the pulse rushing loudly through his ears again, feeling his heart pick up pace. "Have you ever… uh… been… interested in… uh," he trailed off as he suddenly realized what he was just about to say.

He couldn't possibly ask that. But it was then that the scales seemed to suddenly fall from his eyes. He needed to know that it was okay, needed to know that it was perfectly normal to look for guys from time to time, even though he knew that he'd never go through with anything. It was why Greg's statement from before had made him all itchy inside. It wasn't like he was offended or anything. Why should he be, anyway? It had scared him and Tony only realized that fact now. It had scared him that a seventeen-year-old was able to see through him like that.

"In a man?" Gibbs cut through his inner turmoil as he finished Tony's question, his eyebrows shooting up.

Tony shook his head, then nodded and reached out his hand and wrenched Gibbs' still half full glass out of his grip and downed that one, too. Only then did he dare to look at his boss again who was sporting a rather curious expression by now. Gibbs shook his head ever so slightly before he continued to speak.

"Occasionally."

Tony gave a start at that and felt his own eyes get wide as he stared back at the other man, trying to shut up the tiny voice somewhere in the back of his mind that had suddenly started to yell at him at the top of its lungs.

"You… you…" Tony stuttered, feeling utterly like the McGee from six years ago. "You… ever act on it?"

Gibbs snorted and leaned back against the cold stone wall as he shook his head. "No."

"Why… why not?" Tony prodded, suddenly feeling utterly terrified, realizing what kind of conversation he was just having with _Gibbs_.

"I don't know," the guy replied almost hesitantly but never once averted his glance from Tony, who was still mesmerized by the expression the older man was sporting. "I guess I didn't want to risk having to rethink my sexuality just because of a pretty face."

Tony felt his insides clench again and felt oddly disappointed all of a sudden. He realized that he had to be quite drunk by now because if he had been sober, he surely would have just gotten up and left but his mouth was, like often, quicker than his mind as he continued.

"But you'd risk it if there was something more?"

Gibbs remained silent and finally averted his eyes from Tony as he stared at his feet, his shoulder heavily slumped against the wall. Tony felt himself get restless once again and realized that he was grabbing the glass in his hands rather tightly now because his knuckles were already turning white. He forcefully tried to relax, forcefully tried to keep his emotions in check, and especially that stupid voice inside his mind that was still screaming at him. Only as Gibbs finally moved again after what seemed like the hours, but in reality was probably only a few minutes, did Tony turn to look at him and realized with a start that his boss' eyes were strangely bright, even in the dim light of the basement.

"What are you asking there, Tony?" and it was spoken so softly that Tony intuitively leaned a bit closer to him.

"I'm out of line, sorry," he started but trailed off as he saw Gibbs shake his head, so he cleared his throat and continued only above a whisper. "Would you change your mind if someone that was worth it came along?"

"I don't know," Gibbs replied, but Tony could have sworn that he had just given him a quick smile. "Depends on the person, I guess."

"Good," Tony answered and tried to grin at him but wasn't entirely sure if the corners of his mouth actually twitched. "I mean, not good… but you know," he clumsily continued. "It's the same with me, I guess."

"No one ever struck you as worth it?" Gibbs asked, his eyes once again boring into Tony's, who felt his stomach make another flip and this time he was sure that the bourbon had absolutely nothing to do with it.

"There was this guy once," Tony hesitantly brought forward as he realized that it was probably now or never. "But I never knew there was a chance he could be interested."

He stared at Gibbs for a moment longer, his heartbeat so loud in his ears that he was sure that Gibbs had to hear it, too, before he continued as if he was adding an afterthought. "Until now."

He held his breath for a moment, bracing himself for a head slap, for an angry boss-man, for anything actually. But nothing could have prepared him for the soft half-smile that suddenly appeared on the other man's face. Gibbs now raised his hand and for a moment, Tony thought that he'd get the head slap after all but the guy merely laid it upon Tony's shoulder and squeezed it softly and Tony felt himself relax instantly.

They stared into each other's eyes for a very long moment and Tony slowly but steady felt his pulse return to a normal pace, felt himself melt into the touch on his shoulder as he smiled broadly at the guy sitting next to him, who returned it with that trademark half-smile of his. Tony had no clue, what they were supposed to do now, had no clue whether this could even ever work out and he had no clue about what to say either, but frankly, he couldn't care less at that exact moment. All he wanted to do was, keep on sitting there and stare into those icy blue eyes. But then, Gibbs cleared his throat and Tony was risen from his daydream and felt his heart sink as he realized that he had probably misjudged the situation but then that half-smile on Gibbs' face suddenly turned into a fully blown one and he relaxed again as the older stood up and offered him a hand.

"Come on, it's late. We should probably get some sleep. You can sleep on the couch and we can talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good," Tony only replied as he took Gibbs' hand and let him lead him upstairs - and maybe even into a future together.

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: NCIS or any mentioned movie don't belong to me, of course.<br>_

_Would be cool if you let me know what you think about this! ;)_


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